Who You Are
by Kemnam
Summary: Sometimes it can be hard to reach out and seize your own fate, especially when the odds are stacked against you. Finding the courage to do so can be even harder. Kirishima delinquent!AU, one-shot


Disclaimer: I do know own My Hero Academia or it's characters.

* * *

 _You can do whatever you want; be who you want to be, take what you want to take..._

 _As long as your don't get caught._

That was his creed.

Well, not just him. All of them lived by it - the ragtag bunch from Chiba Middle School that Kirishima had once called his "friends". The school was already known to be kind of a delinquent school, but they were the ones that really made it live up to its name. Their teachers hated them, but they never really gave them a reason not to. For two years, they tortured those poor teachers. Even made one quit. But as bad as they were during school hours, it was nothing compared to what they did when the evening bell rang. At first, Kirishima enjoyed it; having friends that were the same kind of lowlife as him. They understood him, didn't judge him by who he might have been related to. He was just regular nobody Kirishima. But by their third year, it was becoming apparent he didn't share the same aspirations as them.

"These career aptitude tests should not be taken lightly," the teacher was saying. "It'll give you a good idea what you can be successful in. There are no wrong answers, so just try to be honest."

Kirishima heard Shiro scoff behind him. He stared at the test packet blankly, not really sure what to do with it. Yes, he knew how to take tests, but did he really want to know where his future was going? At the desk to his left, Fuyu was already whittling the time away by doodling on the test, her graphite fingers smudging the white paper. Takeshi was quickly filling in all the same bubbles without reading the questions. If Kirishima had to guess, Shiro was probably doing the same behind him.

"Mr. Kirishima," the teacher called out. "Eyes on your own paper please."

Kirishima dipped his head, allowing his black hair to fall in his eyes. "Sorry."

The silence of the test atmosphere engulfed the room. Kirishima glanced over the questions on the first page. They were all true or false questions. Probably only about fifty of them. With a sneer on his lips, Kirishima held back his own scoff. Could they really determine their future in fifty questions? What a load of crap. This was why he hated tests.

On the other hand, he had nothing better to do. With a small sigh, he picked up his pencil and wrote his name at the top. This could be fun, Kirishima thought. Maybe he might learn something about himself. With eyes half-lidded and his pencil twirling between his fingers, he read over the first question.

 _Do you feel the need to help others?_

The pencil stopped. Kirishima stared at the question, reading it over and over again. What was the right answer? Obviously true, but was that really true for him? As much as he hated to admit, he usually never went out of his way to help anybody but his friends and himself. But the question had asked if he _felt_ the need to help others, not whether or not he actually did. And did he? Kirishima cocked his head to the side, a sudden sense of guilt settling on his shoulders. Yes, he inclined, perhaps just a little bit. More so now than in the past, as he stopped ignoring the world around him and began to notice just how messed up life could be. But in a way, he already knew that, and sometimes he thought about how cool it would be if he could find a way to change that. Sharp teeth biting into his lips, Kirishima lightly scribbled in the bubble next to 'true', just in case he would have to come back and erase it.

He was the last one to finish the test. The teacher said he could take as much time as he needed, but she said so in a tone that she had never used with Kirishima. She only spoke like that to the well-behaved students in the class. She had even smiled at him when he turned the test in.

"Damn, Pinkie, what took you so long?" Takeshi blurted as Kirishima came around the corner of the drug store just a little ways away from the school. They were already smoking.

The nickname stemmed from a story he had told them about when his quirk had first manifested, how he couldn't make his body any harder than the fingernail on your little finger. Though it might not have been that impressive, it was still enough for little Kirishima to accidentally nick himself on a daily basis. The story was meant to be funny, but now they used the tale to mock him. Kirishima scowled at Takeshi, but accepted the carton of cigarettes he held out to him.

"Lay off, man. Some of those questions were really hard." Fuyu handed him the lighter. "Besides, it's not like we get a grade on it."

"Exactly." Shiro peered at Kirishima through the smoke. "So why even bother? Don't tell me you're actually thinking about becoming a hero or something."

Kirishima took a long drag off of his cigarette, then matched Shiro's piercing gaze. "What if I am?"

They all stopped and stared at him. Under the intensity of their gazes, Kirishima felt his bravado falter. Sticking his cigarette back in his mouth, he looked away from them. This wasn't the first time something like this had ever occurred to him. With society being the way it was, every little kid dreamt of becoming just like their favorite heroes some day. Kirishima had thought he had gotten over that a long time ago.

Takeshi was the first to respond, his boisterous laughter causing a couple pedestrians to look over.

"That is the funniest thing I've ever heard!" Takeshi guffawed. "Can you imagine our little Pinkie out fighting villains?"

Face turning red, Kirishima blustered around his cigarette, making him burst out into gagging coughs. Waving the smoke away from his face, Takeshi continued to laugh at him. Shiro didn't seem as amused as his friend.

"I'm not trying to be mean." Shiro frowned. "But do you really think you have what it takes to be a hero?"

Kirishima looked away from him, not sure what to say.

"You see, that's kind of what I'm talking about." Shiro pointed. "You don't have the confidence to answer. Much less look me in the eye. A real man wouldn't back down, and you have to be a man to be a hero."

Kirishima dipped his chin, peering at him through his hair, ashamed to admit he had a point. His gaze drifted over to Fuyu, who hadn't said anything. She was watching him carefully, her black fingers precariously balancing her cigarette near her mouth. The look in her eye was hard to decipher, almost like she was waiting to see what Kirishima would do next.

"Besides, you would have to get into U.A. to go pro," Shiro continued as he flicked away his smoking cigarette butt. "And they don't accept people like us."

Kirishima quirked an eyebrow at that, blowing out a puff of smoke.

"What do you mean 'people like us'?" He wasn't sure if he should be offended or not.

"You know, delinquents." Takeshi grinned wickedly. "Even without your family history, your smoking alone would get you rejected out of the gate."

Kirishima looked to the burning cigarette in his hand. "I see..."

"I'm getting hungry. Are we going to take this store or what?" Fuyu finally said, standing tall.

The others nodded, and began walking towards the entrance of the store. Shiro looked back to where Kirishima still lingered. "You coming?"

Staring at the bright red tip, Kirishima huffed a sigh through his nose. Dropping the smoking butt to the ground and grinding it down with his shoe, he turned and followed his friends. But he felt... strangely uncomfortable, like he wasn't where he was supposed to be. But he dismissed it as jitters, something he always got when they were about to steal. It still happened, even though they had never been caught, not once after all these years. Kirishima had begun to believe they never would.

A couple days later, Kirishima was called to the school master's office after school. That was the second most confusing day of his life so far, since he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to warrant marshal punishment. He could have blown it off, like he would do with his teachers. But something told him that this was important - important enough to care, but not much more than that. When he opened the door to the headmaster's office, he was surprised to see the old man sitting there with his homeroom teacher. They were smiling softly at him. An expression he wasn't used to.

"Eijirou Kirishima," The headmaster said with a hint of cheer. "We've been expecting you. Sit, please?"

Their happy demeanor caught him completely off guard. "Hey, sorry. Listen, if this is about the trash in the air vents, I promise it wasn't me."

The headmaster and the teacher shared a look.

"No, this isn't about that," The teacher said with a smile as Kirishima sat down. "We wanted to talk to you about this."

The piece of paper they handed him had him sitting up straight. "My career aptitude test?"

"Your teacher brought it to me because she was... pleasantly surprised by some of the answers that you chose." The headmaster said. "And we just wanted to ask you if these answers you chose were genuine. What I mean is, is this how you really feel?"

Kirishima paused, not sure what to make of all this. Before he could answer, his teacher sat forward.

"Kirishima, if you are willing to put in the effort that it would take, then I'm sure you would have all kinds of opportunities opened to you." Reaching over to the headmaster's desk, she picked up a brochure and handed it to him. It was a brightly colored pamphlet with suited pro heroes striking magnificent poses and stars flying through the sky behind them. It looked like the cover from one of the poorly translated American comic books that Kirishima liked to download online. At the top of the pamphlet was the gilded gold crest of U.A. with an emblazoned logo that said ' _where heroes are made_ '.

"We would be willing to help you get your grades up to the standards of U.A.'s acceptance terms," his teacher continued. "Your marks actually aren't that bad, so all you would have to worry about is the entrance exam."

She was getting excited, and that was really starting to annoy Kirishima. So he was just some charity case to her, was that it? Some kid she could pluck from the slums to be her next success story. He felt anger begin to boil in his chest, and he wanted to crumple up the pamphlet and throw it in her face to show her that he didn't need her pity. But something stopped him. Kirishima took a deep breath and placed the brochure back on the headmaster's desk. Their smiles faltered.

"Thank you, but I really don't think I'm cut out for that kind of thing." He sat back in the chair, folding his hands in his lap like he sometimes saw the good kids do. "The answers I gave on that test... they weren't really based on how I think I am, but more on who I would like to be."

That answer seemed to surprise both the adults, and they shared a look. The headmaster leaned forward, a look in his eyes that Kirishima couldn't identify.

"You know, Mr. Kirishima, this high school has produced many of the great heroes that we have today," he spoke carefully, like he thought he would scare the young boy. "All Might, Endeavor, even older ones like Gran Torino and Crimson Riot. But you know what? At some point in all of their lives, they all were in your same spot - just a kid with a dream in their eyes and unsure about the future. They all had what it took to seize their destinies and make it theirs - they had to work hard at it, no doubt about that, and both your teacher and I think that you also have what it takes to do the same. Will you let us help you, Eijirou?"

Kirishima was speechless, his mind blank with shock. No one had ever given him this kind of praise before. To have this much expectation put upon his shoulders was both humbling and uplifting. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or cry. Did they really think that? Had they always thought that? _Did he?_ To be honest, Kirishima had never though much of himself, but he would like to believe that he was meant for something more than-

Oh. Right. Kirishima faltered, sagging back in his seat and looking up at his teachers through his black hair.

"But... what about...? Aren't the recruiters going to know that I'm related to..." He couldn't even speak his name. He really was pathetic.

The headmaster gently called his name, making him look up into his wrinkly face and strikingly wise eyes.

"You are not your brother, Mr. Kirishima," the Headmaster stated boldly. "Your fate is yours and yours alone. Don't let the fear of turning into him keep you from being who you are. It's okay to want something better for yourself."

Kirishima didn't respond, wishing it could really be that simple. The silence stretched in a touch too long, and it was already pretty late in the day. His teacher reached over and took the pamphlet off of the Headmaster's desk and held it out to him.

"You don't have to give us an answer now, Eijirou." This time, he could tell she was being sincere. "But please promise that you'll think about it? We really are willing to help you do whatever it takes. You might not believe it, but we think you show the makings of a terrific hero."

Kirishima tentatively took the brochure and mumbled a promise that he would consider it. When he left the Headmaster's office, Kirishima had never been more confused in his life. Did he want to be a hero? Of course, who didn't. But did he _really_ want to be a hero? That he didn't know. Thinking about it fully for the first time, he knew that the process of becoming a pro was definitely going to be a lot of work with absolutely no room for slacking off. He would have to actually do the homework and study for the tests - all of which sounded like a huge snooze fest to him. But... on the other hand, it could also be a lot of fun. He watched the U.A. sports festival every year, and often heard stories or read news articles about students participating in some pretty spectacular events. That in itself seemed like it would make all the boring stuff worth it. He had a goofy smile on his lips at the very thought. But, what if-

"What's with the look, Pinkie?" Takeshi yanked Kirishima out of his thoughts. "You got gas or something?"

Kirishima had automatically walked to where he knew his friends would be hanging out without really meaning to. Not wanting to seem rude, but also really wanting to go home, he ignored Takeshi's question and took the cigarette carton and lighter from Fuyu.

"What did the old geezer want to talk about?" Shiro asked him. His tone was strange, almost like he was warning Kirishima to choose his answer wisely. It must have just been in his head.

"Wanted to talk about my career aptitude test again." He said. The lighter was having trouble catching a flame. "They think I can go pro."

"Ugh, not this again." Takeshi rolled his eyes. "Did you stick it back in their faces?"

Kirishima sighed, thoughts going to the brochure rolled up in his back pocket. "Actually, about that..."

"Don't tell me your actually thinking about it."

Kirishima looked up at Shiro, pausing with the lighter. His friend had one eyebrow perked and an incredulous look on his face. Kirishima frowned in confusion.

"So what if I am? Would it really be so bad?"

"You'd be breaking up the team by going off to some big shot high school that you barely have a hope of getting into in the first place," Shiro stated nonchalantly, like he was stating a fact. "Is that really what you want?"

Kirishima rolled his eyes, not in the slightest mood to deal with any drama. "Don't think of it like that. We can still hang out on weekends and holidays that I'm not busy." A thought occurred to him just then. "Or better yet, why don't we all try to get in to U.A. together? We could all train together and stuff."

"Do you even hear yourself, Kirishima?" Shiro asked, his voice low but his lips curved in a smile. "The three of us have a much better chance of getting in than you, and we still wouldn't get past the first round. It's a hopeless dream, so just forget about it."

Kirishima suddenly picked up on the tense atmosphere by the way that Takeshi wasn't laughing and how Fuyu was staring at the ground. He wasn't sure what he did, but Shiro was upset. On any other day, Kirishima would have backed down with an apology and never brought it up again. He would have accepted Shiro's words to be truth. He valued his friendship with Shiro. But the Headmaster's words rang through his mind - _your fate is yours and yours alone._ He looked to the unlit cigarette in his hand. It clicked just then - or more like everything finally settled into place. Suddenly, in that moment, he decided today was going to be unlike any other day.

"You know, I'm not my brother, Shiro." His words caused them all to look up at him. But he wasn't finished yet. "And I'm starting to get sick of you constantly comparing me to him. And I'm tired of feeling weak, like I'm not where I'm supposed to be. So you know what?" Kirishima dropped the cigarette to the ground, and made a show of grinding it down with his shoe. "I'm done. I'm done not doing anything to change my own life, done just standing by while the world goes on around me. So yeah, I'm gonna become a pro, and make a difference - or at least, give it my best shot. Sure, I might not have a ghost of a chance of getting in, but I've got to try. I've got to do something. And I'm starting now!"

With each word he spoke, he became more riled up. His words were more to himself than to his friends, words that tumbled out of his mouth without end but were things that he had really been wanting to say for a long time. Takeshi and Fuyu gawked at him with wide eyes, but Shiro was glaring daggers through Kirishima's skull. Realizing that he had just yelled at his friends, Kirishima felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. Hoisting his backpack up off the ground, he spun on his heel and walked away.

"A real man wouldn't abandon his friends for a pointless dream," Shiro called after him.

He stopped. Years from now, Kirishima would have wished that he had kept on walking, just ignored his friend and gone home. It might have been the excitement of the moment or the new mindset that he was embracing that caused what happened next - either way, Kirishima would regret it.

"Shiro, I don't think you have any idea what it means to be a man." He looked over his shoulder in time to see Shiro finally drop his superior facade for one of shock. Fuyu quickly reached out and wrapped her graphite fingers tightly around his arm."I'll... see you guys later."

And with that, he left his friends behind in a cloud of their own smoke and a deep silence for them all to wonder what had just happened.

When he got home, Kirishima went straight to his room. Neither of his parents were home, but they hardly ever got in before dark. Slamming his back pack on the floor, Kirishima grabbed fistfuls of his black hair and sunk gracelessly into his desk chair. _What the hell was that?!_ Where on earth had that come from? Dragging his hands down his face, Kirishima groaned. He hadn't meant to explode like that. He wasn't an angry person - he couldn't even remember the last time he lost his cool like that. But... he did have to admit that it felt _good_. Kirishima sighed, dropping his hands to stare up at the ceiling. Finally getting things out in the open like that had been like dropping a heavy load that he had been carrying for too long. But now the question was, what did he do now?

Retrieving the brochure out of his back pocket, Kirishima unfolded it and skimmed over the information on the inside. Most of it was general information about U.A.'s glorious campus and state of the art facilities. But he already knew about all that. It was the entrance exam dates that he was looking for.

"So it's about eight months from now," he mumbled to himself. Spinning around in his chair, he started up his computer and connected to the internet. Before he could type a word, however, Kirishima realized his hands were shaking. Clenching his hands into fists and taking a couple of deep breaths, he closed his eyes. "Don't think, Eijirou. There's no turning back now."

Hardening his conviction, Kirishima opened his eyes and began typing in the first question that popped into his mind. As his research progressed long into the night, he found his excitement growing with each new tidbit of information. He was really doing this, he was really going to become a pro. For what was probably the first time in a very long time, Kirishima had a goal again - something to strive for and work hard for. He had a dream to make real.

He had a purpose.

The next day at school, he approached his same teacher and told her he was in. The woman had almost broken her desk when she slammed her hands against it in joy. He didn't get the chance to apologize to his friends, since his teacher wanted to get started with make-up lessons right away after school. But at the same time, Kirishima didn't feel the need to apologize. He hadn't really done anything wrong. He had moved seats from the back of the classroom to the front, where it was much easier to pay attention. Sometimes he thought he could feel their glares on the back of his head.

Everyday after school, Kirishima joined a group of other kids that were interested in going to hero-prep schools for supplementary lessons. At first, it was difficult for him to keep up. But his teacher as well as a couple of the other kids were more than happy to help him out. Although, that wasn't to say that all of those goody-two-shoes kids accepted him. Some were, in fact, very vocal about their thoughts, and told him that he didn't belong with them. He tried not to let that discourage him. When school ended and broke for the summer, Kirishima still met with his teacher for some one-on-one sessions. He almost felt bad for making the teacher take time out of her summer break to help him, but she reassured him that she was going to see him through all the way up to exam day and make sure he succeeded. No one had ever done anything like that for him before. Kirishima was touched.

As for physical training, Kirishima threw himself into it the only way he knew how - by throwing himself off of buildings. It was never dangerous for him, but it did hurt a little to begin with. He developed a routine - run up the stairs, do push-ups and sit-ups on the roof, jump, and repeat. His teacher would only let him do this at the school, and only when she was available to be there in case he messed up and needed an ambulance. She always covered her eyes when he jumped from the two story building. But the results were hard to deny, and pretty soon they had to move on to taller buildings. Exercising was also a great way for him to get through his nicotine withdrawal. At home, Kirishima lifted weights and did stretches. His parents had been a little concerned when he had asked if they still had his brothers old workout stuff, but as soon as he explained what he needed it for, they were overjoyed.

He rented books from the library about quirk training and pro-hero conduct. The head master would sometimes come by and visit him during his sessions. He took exams that allowed his bad grades to be over-written with passing ones. Pretty soon, he had the marks he needed in order to qualify for U.A.'s exams. The summer went by in a blur of printed words and sore muscles.

Kirishima didn't see his friends once. What's more, he hardly thought about them, either.

The night before the entrance exam, Kirishima's teacher had told him to go home and watch videos of his favorite hero. Something to inspire him, she had said, and give him a confidence boost. He took her advice, and rewatched all the old footage of All Might and Crimson Riot that he could find. It gave him a thrill, just like when he was a little boy. Somehow, he knew things were going to turn out alright.

The day of the entrance exam came too soon, it seemed. Kirishima's nerves were electrified, making him jumpy and nervous. A small part of him wished he could have a cigarette. His teacher had done a bang-up job with helping him to study for the written portion of the exam, so he was fairly confident he had it in the bag. But after Present Mic had explained how the practical was going to work, he couldn't help but feel nervous. His quirk was meant more for defending, not fighting. He had skimmed through a book on martial arts, but it was hard to find someone to practice with. As it was, he just hoped his reflexes and instincts were good enough to pull him through. The gates to the battle ground were about to open. Taking a deep breath, Kirishima closed his eyes.

"You got this," he mumbled to himself. "You worked hard for this. You can be who ever you want to be..."

 _"...as long as you don't get caught."_

Kirishima couldn't help but hear the rest of the mantra in his head, Shiro's voice rising from the depths of his mind like ink floating to the surface of water. Releasing an irritated sigh, he ran his hand through his black hair. It seemed that even when his friends weren't around, they still managed to influence his life. He wondered what they were up to nowadays...

He didn't have long to think about it, however. Present Mic's jovial voice sounded over the speakers, asking them all what they were waiting for, and the mad rush began. Kirishima had been lucky enough to be standing close to the gate, and rushed in without thinking. Within a few seconds of entering the battle area, he was targeted by a 2-point robot. He just barely managed to harden himself in time to deflect the robot's massive swing. Recovering quickly, Kirishima flattened his hand into a blade and focused his hardening into his fingers - the only thing he could think of for a weapon.

"Here goes nothing," Kirishima growled as he jumped into the air and brought his fist down on the robots head.

It was over before he knew it. Completely out of breath and starting to tremble a little from exhaustion, Kirishima realized he hadn't even been keeping track of how many robots he had taken down. Was it three, or thirty? Did it matter if he had taken them down in tandem with another examinee? So many questions were running through his head as he watched Recovery Girl piece some poor kid back together again. He frowned, watching the boy's legs crunch and crinkle back into their original shape. If everyone who applied for U.A. was as crazy powerful as this guy, Kirishima thought, then he had his work cut out for him. As he shambled through the gates, his body weary and his mind slipping into a numb buzz, Kirishima felt uncertain about his efforts in the exam. He could only hope they were good enough - at least enough to make them overlook whatever they found on his background check.

The days following the entrance exam did nothing to help Kirishima's anxiety. He had no idea when he would get his results, and despite his and his parents best efforts, there was nothing he could do to curve his riled nerves. Each time the mail man came by, his blood pressure spiked through the roof. During these days, he rested. It seemed like all the stress and headaches that he had blatantly been ignoring over the past eight months had finally caught up with him. Kirishima slept so much that he would wake up in the afternoons on some days, be awake long enough to eat something and mess around for a few hours, and then go straight back to sleep. It was a strange couple days that, honestly, he didn't remember most of.

On the evening of the fifth day, Kirishima awoke to a setting sun. The soft orange light was harsh on his bleary eyes. Pushing himself up out of bed, Kirishima rubbed his eye and padded over to his desk. His mother had left out a small meal for him before she had gone to work. Beef shish kebabs, his favorite. Sitting down heavily in his chair, Kirishima reached over and picked up the napkin lying next to his plate... which was actually a heavy envelope with a wax seal depicting the crest of U.A. and a sticky note from his mom that said 'this came for you today - we'll celebrate tonight!'.

Kirishima jerked back so hard that he fell out of his chair, dropping the envelope on his desk. Peering over the edge of his desk and seeing that the letter was in fact real, Kirishima licked his lips and seated himself in his chair once more. This was it. This was his future wrapped up in a sealed envelope. For a while, he simply stared at it, wondering if he should open it now or later when he was more prepared. But he knew it wouldn't make a difference, so he grabbed the letter and ripped the seal with a hardened finger before he could talk himself out of it.

A small device popped out. It rolled across his desk and clattered against his tin of pens. There, it gave a small beep, and a single line of light shot up from the center of it. It quickly expanded across the shelves of Kirishima's walls and buzzed to life.

"Hello, young citizen!" All Might's loud voice and huge image almost knocked Kirishima out of his chair a second time. "Fret not! Your days of anxiously waiting are over, for I am here to tell you that we have finally made a decision regarding your admittance!"

Kirishima's heart was pounding so hard, and yet he couldn't move or much less breath. All Might's face was crooked and bent against his shelves, his smile broken in half by a glass jar of loose change he had found on the street.

"Which is why I will just cut right to the chase! After reviewing your written and practical test scores," All Might seemed to pause for a painfully long time. "It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to the hero course at U.A.! Congratulations, young Kirishima. You earned it."

Kirishima burst into tears. It was going to happen no matter what All Might said, but he sure as hell was relieved to be crying tears of joy. His smile nearly split his face in half, and a manic chuckle managed to slip past his pointed teeth. He did it! He really did it! Perhaps by the skin of his teeth or perhaps not, but he did it! The fact that All Might had even said his name was proof that a mistake hadn't been made. His heart swelled with pride - his hard work had paid off. He couldn't wait to tell his teacher.

"I know you must be very excited right now, but I'd like to take a moment to be serious." All Might's image suddenly became still and serious. "Although U.A. does not discriminate by uncontrollable circumstances, we couldn't help but be wary about accepting you. I'm sure you know what I'm referring to."

Kirishima gulped, his eyes dropping to the weights that sat on the floor next to his bed - the ones that used to belong to his brother.

"But, nevertheless, we saw greatness in you, so greatness is what we expect," All Might continued. "We'll be expecting you come next semester! Once more, congratulations! "

All Might went on for a little while longer with reminders to submit his costume designs and such and such. Kirishima barely registered it, though his eyes continued to stare at All Might and the space he left behind when the message ended. A few moments passed in silence, during which there was a knock on the door. He looked over as it cracked open, his mother poking her head in. The sharp-toothed grin and teary eyes matched his own, letting him know that she had heard the good news. They all celebrated that night, Kirishima and his parents all so overjoyed that he had beaten the odds. At the time, Kirishima had thought that nothing could go wrong.

He left the store with a single bag, stepping out into the late afternoon. Fishing the box out of the plastic, Kirishima turned the container of hair dye over on his hands - that he had bought with his own money - looking for the instructions in a language he could understand. He had never done anything like this before. Perhaps dying his hair a few shades lighter might have been a little much, but he was making a fresh start at U.A. and that included his attitude, and he needed his appearance to match. Hopefully, his mom would have a little more experience with this.

"Eijirou."

Kirishima froze, the voice from his left striking the chords of familiarity in his mind. He hadn't heard her voice in a _long_ time.

"Fuyu?" He turned to face her. She was breathing heavily, like she had run all the way here. "What are you-?"

"It's Shiro," she said quickly. "H-he never forgave you, Ei. He's been keeping tabs on you all this time. Takeshi and I, we..." She swallowed heavily. "We didn't think it was a big deal. But then, when he heard that you got into U.A., he freaking lost it! He... he's on his way to the police, Ei. He's going to rat you out, and pin everything we stole on you!"

Kirishima didn't move, didn't say anything. She stared back at him, her eyes wide with both fear and regret. "What?!" He finally exploded. "Are you serious? I can't let him do that! It'll ruin everything!"

"I'm sorry, Eijirou." Fuyu began to cry, but Kirishima quickly approached her, dropping the box of hair dye and grabbing her shoulders. Shaking her gently and startling her, he looked her hard in the eye.

"Where is he now? Tell me, Fuyu."

She hesitated before answering, staring at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "He's going to the station off of 1st. Takeshi is trying to stall him right now."

He wasted no time letting her go and leaving her behind, running through the darkening night. He knew exactly where that police station was, because he had learned to avoid it at all costs. To think that Shiro... a person he considered a friend... would go so far just to get a little revenge...

He found Shiro and Takeshi in the alleyway not ten yards from the station. Takeshi had his hand firmly planted on the broad part of Shiro's back. He was dancing around the taller boy, staying out of his reach as Shiro weakly tried to make a grab for him. Shiro wasn't looking so good, one eye opened more than the other and his knees were shaking. Kirishima almost felt bad for him - Takeshi could lay down some pretty heavy vertigo when he wanted to. He spotted Kirishima standing at the mouth of the alley.

"Do something, Eijirou!" He sounded franctic. "I can't hold him much longer!"

Shiro took advantage of the distraction, swinging his arm wide in a haymaker that knocked Takeshi in the ear. Off balance, Takeshi's hand left Shiro's back. He quickly recovered, towering over the other boy with a growl in his throat and a leer in his eyes. That was enough, and a moment later, Takeshi was on his knees, head dropped in fear and unable to move.

Shiro turned to face Kirishima, who was standing between him and the police station. If Kirishima had thought that he had seen Shiro angry before, then this was a whole other kind of rage that he was seeing now. But he spread he feet apart in a fighting stance and clenched his hands into fists. Shiro stepped towards him, and when Kirishima didn't take a step back, it just seemed to anger him more.

"You think that just because you've got some pretty new muscles that you're better than me?" Shiro growled. "Those idiot's at U.A. have no idea what a mistake they've made."

Kirishima would have been lying if he thought Shiro's words didn't hurt a little. But he steeled his resolve and raised his fists.

"Your submission quirk only works on people that fear you, Shiro," Kirishima said in a low voice. "But it's not going to work on me anymore. Just turn around and go home. You never have to see me again!"

That was the wrong thing to say. Shiro's eyes went wide, and he charged Kirishima. He stood his ground, and met Shiro fist to fist in that alleyway in front of the police station - but he refused to use his quirk, knowing that if he did, he might break Shiro's hand. As hard as he tried to fight defensively, this was his first fight, and Shiro was strong. His blocks were sloppy and his guard was all over the place, and Shiro was fast. He didn't throw any punches, but Kirishima did lunge at Shiro's openings to try to grab him. But Shiro was so angry that he busted through Kirishima's guard and slammed him with heavy hits. Takeshi watched them with tears in his eyes, unable to overcome himself like Kirishima had.

Kirishima's eye was starting to throb, and he was pretty sure he had a split lip, but at some point, he managed to tackle Shiro to the ground. He wrapped his arm's and legs around him like an octopus. Only then did he use his quirk to bind his hands together. Shiro screamed and thrashed under him, but he was locked tight and wasn't going anywhere. Kirishima had no idea what to do next.

Unfortunately, he didn't need to figure it out. Someone had alerted the police across the street about the fight. They both froze when a bright flashlight shone over them and an angry voice called out. Shiro broke through Kirishima's hold while his guard was down by smacking his head into Kirishima's face, scrambled to his feet and ran the other way. Takeshi wasn't far behind, his fear of being arrested spurring him to action. Kirishima, lying stunned on the ground, wasn't so lucky.

As soon as he sat up, blood gushed out of his nose. Not a second later, a large hand was wrapped around his arm and hoisting him roughly to his feet. Kirishima stared blankly at the ground as he was limply dragged to the police station, wondering what he was going to do now.

They allowed him the courtesy to clean himself up a little before they booked him. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut, and his nose was turning purple. Although, as badly as his body was beginning to hurt, nothing was more wounded than his pride. He managed to keep the tears from his eyes long enough to get his picture taken. After that, he blubbered his way through an explanation, though he chose not to tell the officers why the fight had started or what the other boy's name was. They were clearly not satisfied with his vague story. His parent's were called, and they came rushing to the station. Kirishima was barely able to see their outlines through the one-way window. He couldn't bare to guess what they might be thinking. He had never been so ashamed.

He was charged with reckless quirk usage and aggravated assault - but since he was a minor and this was his first known offense, coupled with the fact that he insisted that he hadn't started the fight, Kirishima was issued a hefty fine and a heavy warning. They drove home in silence. When they got home, they sat him down with an icepack and gently asked him what had happened. Kirishima came clean - about everything. His parents had never known about the stealing or the smoking, or any of the other stuff he had learned from his brother before he went to jail. He broke down in tears, muttering that he was sorry over and over again and that he would never do it again. His parents shared a look, then told him to go to his room for the rest of the night.

But Kirishima couldn't go to sleep, despite how much he wanted to. Fuyu texted him for the first time in ages asking what had happened. Apparently Takeshi had run straight to her, and was a nervous wreck. Shiro was nowhere to be seen. He managed to type out a short story of his fight and arrest. It was painful to recollect, but he knew she deserved to know. After all, if she hadn't warned him, Shiro would have gotten away with it. It was a while before she responded with a single sentence.

 _Don't give up just yet._

It was soon followed by another one.

 _I haven't._

But Kirishima knew he had messed up big time. As soon as the administration at U.A. heard about this, they were going to revoke his admittance. His hard work was going to waste after one little slip up. All the hard work that his teacher, the headmaster, and he had put in to getting to this point, and he had let them down in the end. All of these were like punches to the face, and far more painful than any physical blows that Shiro could ever give him.

The final blow came when his doubts were confirmed the next day when his parents received a call from U.A. informing them that his admittance was "under review".

Kirishima wanted to throw something, to punch a wall or kick a chair - anything to vent the fiery frustration and despair roiling in his gut. It wasn't fair. It just simply wasn't fair. Eight months of intense training and mind numbing make-up lessons... down the drain. He couldn't help but feel that Shiro had been right all along - he had never really had a chance, and it had been stupid of him to think otherwise.

Four days passed by, and they still hadn't heard anything back from U.A., and Kirishima had accepted the fact that he never would. It crushed his spirits to know that he had failed so spectacularly at something he had worked so hard for. He didn't eat, hardly slept. His parents grounded him, taking away his cellphone and computer. If he wanted to go anywhere, one of them had to go with him. It might have seemed excessive, but with one son in jail, they weren't going to lose him, too. It pained them to punish their son like this, however, even when it seemed like Kirishima was already punishing himself more than they ever could. He didn't leave the house, didn't say more than three words to either of them, and busied himself with chores and books. Sometimes, at night, they thought they could hear his sniffles through the walls. Their child was crumbling to peices in front of them.

"Eijirou? You awake?" His mom poked her head into his room, noting how everything was put away, but a certain stench hung in the air. Kirishima lowered the book he had been reading, quirking an eyebrow at his mother. She grinned softly at him, but he didn't return it. "Take a shower sweety, and put on a clean shirt, we have visitors."

Surprised, Kirishima swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood. "Who?" But his mother was already gone.

When he made his way to his family living room, his black hair slightly damp, he jerked in surprised to see Fuyu, Takeshi, and his middle school teacher sipping tea on one couch. They all looked up at him when he came in. Fuyu had her cup wrapped in a napkin so her fingers wouldn't smudge it. Takeshi was giving him a genuine smile for the first time since Kirishima had known him. His teacher had a medium sized box on her lap. His parents were sitting across from them on the other couch, and he took his spot between them. He was almost too baffled to speak.

"What... what are you guys doing here?" His voice was raspy. He hadn't spoken in a while.

Fuyu and Takeshi didn't answer, so his teacher sighed and put her cup down. "Mr. Kirishima, your friends came to me a couple days ago. They told me about everything that had happened." Kirishima looked to his friends, who suddenly seemed ashamed. "I've got to say, at first, I was a little disappointed to hear about you being... but, then, I came to understand what had happened. You were trying to stop him, weren't you?"

Kirishima couldn't look her in the eye, but nodded.

"I knew that you would probably have gotten discouraged, so we took it upon ourselves to set things right." His teacher placed her hands on the box. "The three of us, we went to U.A. and spoke with the administration. We told them all about you."

Kirishima looked up, confused by the meaning of his teacher's words. Fuyu and Takeshi remained silent, though they were smiling at him.

"You must have made quite an impression on them, Mr. Kirishima," his teacher said with a laugh. "It took a lot less effort to convince them to reconfirm your enrollment than I thought it would."

He didn't realize his mouth had dropped open to reveal his pointed teeth. Clearly he had misheard - there was no way this could be happening. A finger under his chin from his mother gently closed his mouth. Turning to look at her, he was even more surprised to see that she wasn't as shocked as him. Neither was his father.

"But... we never got a call," Kisirhima finally said.

"We kinda asked them not to call you." Takeshi laughed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Wanted to see your face when you found out, Pinkie."

His teacher sat forward and held the box out to him. With uncertain hands, Kirishima took the box and set it in his lap. It wasn't very heavy, but it was packed with something. Opening the box, Kirishima gasped, and his parents watched as he pulled out the silver jacket with green stripes around the cuffs. The official uniform jacket of U.A. and the rest of the ensemble as well as three other pairs. He couldn't believe his eyes. And to top it off, a list of school supplies and required text books specifically addressed to him was slipped between the uniforms.

"You deserve this, Eijirou," Fuyu said gently. "More than anyone, you deserve this. I'm sorry we weren't there for you... but I want you to know that Takeshi and I are _proud_ to call you our friend. We both want to see you become who you're meant to be."

Face growing hot with emotions, Kirishima couldn't help the tears that slipped down his cheeks. To go so far... for _him_ , he had never felt more grateful to have people in his life such as these.

"You're going to want this for your first day, Eijirou." Takeshi sat forward and held out another, smaller box to him. It was hair dye. "We decided that if you're going to change your hair, then you might as well go big or go home. And yes, we paid for that."

A small chuckle escaped his lips. Looking down at the jacket in his hands, Kirishima grinned. "Guys, I don't know what to say..."

"Say that you'll do whatever it takes to become a hero." Fuyu suddenly became serious. "Even if it means never seeing us again."

Taken aback by her words, Kirishima looked over to Takeshi. The look on his face said that he agreed with her. But he shook his head.

"No, I'm sure that won't be necessary." Dumping the box of uniforms into his dad's arms, Kirishima leaped from his seat and rushed over to his teacher and friends. They barely reacted in time as he wrapped his arms around them in a tight but awkward hug. But he didn't care that it was awkward. "You guys are the best. I promise, you won't regret this!"

The sink was stained redder than a stop sign, but Kirishima couldn't have been more excited with his new hair. His uniform jacket was a little tight around the shoulders, and his mother had to fix his tie for him. When he stepped out that door, Kirishima saw the sun shining and smiled. His future was waiting for him at U.A., waiting for him to reach out and seize it. He could see it all so clearly; it wasn't going to be easy, but there was nothing standing in his way besides himself. The road was going to be long and full of obstacles. He couldn't wait.

 _You can do whatever you want to do, be who ever you want to be..._

 _And I hope I'm there to see you shine!_

* * *

A/N: Hello! This is my first MHA fic! The lovely keiid on tumblr allowed me to write this based off her picture! This is my take on Kirishima's back story - which is now obsolete, haha. I started writing this before his back story began, to be fair. That's okay though, I'm glad Kirishima is as pure as we all knew he was. So maybe think of this as an AU. I gave Kirishima a brother based on the notion that 'eiji' can mean second son in Japanese. But don't take my word for that.

If you liked it, please leave a review!


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